


How to Topp

by Grondfic



Category: Molesworth by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle
Genre: M/M, Uncategorized fandoms - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-08 19:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grondfic/pseuds/Grondfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would have thought that Sir Nigel Molesworth, Nobel Laureate in Chemistry and well-known bon viveur, kept a diary the style of which has hardly changed since his far-off skool days?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Topp

**Author's Note:**

> 1 The quote from Stephen Hawking in the Epilogue is taken direct from his paper to the 17th International Conference on General Relativity and Gravitation in Dublin, given this year on My Birthday (coincidence? Or not?).  
> 2 **Thanks to:**  
> (a) Sundry posters on the "Guardian Unlimited" talkboards for supplying everything I know about Black Holes. And to the genius whose posting I can no longer find who outlined a lighthearted theory for "nestling" around mini-black-holes.  
> (b) The Divine "AC", whose "Folly of Starlight" series (<http://ithilas.com/fos/el.html>) so inspired my hero!! (spot the ref!)

  
**Title: How to Topp**  
**Fandom:** Molesworth by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle  
**Pairing:** Nigel Molesworth/Basil Fotherington-Tomas  
**Disclaimer:** None of mine – Molesworth wouldn't have wanted you to sue! I just fell for the beautiful, horrible language!  
**Warnings:** Bad grammar and spelling warning.  
* * *  
**Biographer's Preface:**

_In introducing this excerpt from the recently-discovered diary of my subject, I am motivated by the purest and most uplifting of reasons – Public Interest!_

_Both the principals here mentioned have recently vanished under mysterious circumstances. However, even before this, persistent rumours had been spreading that the seminal work on what has become known as the Molesworth-Peason Effect, was in fact the work of Professor Molesworth's main collaborator. Dr Peason has, of course, been bombarding the press – both professional and popular – with unproven accusations for years. In plain terms Peason accused Sir Nigel of plagiarism and Unnatural Practices. After the second libel case, Peason's circumstances became so reduced as to stem his constant threats of more litigation; and the press lost interest. Now, however, both the press and the police are anxious to interview Dr Peason, who was not available for comment last night._

_When this diary was discovered (shoved unceremoniously down the side of Sir Nigel's favourite sofa), a totally new light was shed upon his professional and personal life. I felt the Public had a right to know, even though the other party mentioned in this carefully-selected excerpt was, until his disappearance, UN Special Peace Envoy, famed for his masterly resolution of the recent Easter Island crisis by his use of what he humorously described as his 'hello clouds, hello sky' technique._

_Whilst continuing my integration of this new material into my already-copious notes for the Official Biography, I am therefore satisfying public demand by serialising ~~the best bits~~ some of the more unknown aspects of this many-facetted character in the Red Letter, Daily Shame, and News of the Planet. A special illustrated feature on Sir Nigel's lifestyle will also appear in Hiya Magazine…._

* * * *

Wizz for st custards! Altho sadly not for original skool building wich hav long been 6 feet under following unfortunat contretemps (fr.) with teror bomb zoom kerplunk. (Or mayb it was just skool sossage which xplode poo gosh).

Headmaster Grimes also 6 ft under cheers cheers cheers no more kanes in New Millenium.

Now Old Skool Reunion take place in jolie et gaye s. of france in hotel magnifique paid for i suspekt by Gillibrand Memorial Millions. Orchestra pla minstrel boy softly.

i arriv hotfut from Geneva convenshun. Wot am the wurld coming to my dears, noone dare breethe without wets giving permishun and GURLS saing wot about us eh? Gender politicks rool chiz chiz chiz, thay are utterly wet.

Flunkies take cases of GIN saing welcome sir Nigel quel honneur sir Nigel this waie yore suite hav privat terace and orange umbrella ah les neiges d'antan.

Pin un-pc golliwog badge on manly chest wot read hurra hurra for st. custards and look around.

And who is this who skip weedily up to me, eh?

'Hullo molesworth 1, hullo orange umbrella,' he sa, 'i hav not seen yore face for yeeres. You hav not changed a bit still hav face adorably remniskent of squished tomato.'

You hav guessed it is dere little basil fotherington-Tomas.

But wate a bit! He is not so little these daies! And wen did he get 2 B so HOT, i wud liek to kno? Curls am now delikat shade of grey but otherwise he gaze at wurld still thro big ickle-pritty-blue eyes. Remind self he is utterly wet and a GURL. Spends his time saing 'Hullo clouds, hullo sky' in wurld's hotspots to delite of locals from wot i here.

'i hav folowed yore carrer with grate interest molesworth 1,' he sa, 'And wept with joy at yore elevashun tell me how is Peason these daies?'

'Search me,' i repli, 'He is clot-faced wet as ever.'

'i here ther hav been shal we sa fluters in the Dovecote,' he sa stearnly, 'Now is this kind Nigel yore pore Mater would hardli aproove!'

'SIR Nigel to you o mitey Pukon!' i riposte smartly.

'Nigel nigel' he sa, 'Noone remember mitey pukon or treens in XXI century unless thay collect vintage comix now it is all hary poter and Kilie Mong you should get out of yore lab mor and LIVE a little.'

Ickle-pritty basil hav clearly not been reeding Skandal Colum of Evening Yell or he wuould kno about embarrassing incident with paparzze in gents at … CHIZ CURSES wot am i saing?

'For myself,' continue basil, 'i hav decided to acksept kind offer by London Institut of Earwax and Solipsism (LIES) of Chair in Department of Ecological and Pharmaceutical Politicks it will be nice chagne from travelling.'

_[**ie**: i note that basil's new dept spel DEPP. This am Cunning Ploy on behalf of Lade – hem hem – author with whom (grammer!) i hav bet._

_'BASH ON THE WINE GUMS, NIGEL!' she sa, 'And i will laie good odds that i mak you menshun Prates of the Karibean at least once!'_

_'Prates of the Karibean iz for GURLS! Orli is utterly wet and a weed, keera Nitely canot act for tooffe, Depp make liek he is on the sauce, and the food could do with improvement!' i riposte and …._

_CHIZ CURSES! Wot am i saing?]_

Having thus prooved i am still huge lout with 0 branes, i return to nervous brilliance of dialog, my dears. Basil still gaze at me xpectantly.

'So you wil be more in Lundon?' i sa, 'Mayb we cuould hav diner go on o you mite!'

'We can hav diner now, Nigel,' he point out, 'It wil soon be time to mete the st custards survivors i hope the maitre dee kno i eat only veg and drink pure spring water!'

Chiz! He hav not chagned at al …. xcept for being HOT. Mayb later ……

* * * *

Last chorus of skool song die awaie and molesworth 2 (now international conzert pianist) settle down to pla fairy bells nothing can stop him. Under cover of noise i mak move on basil.

'Wot sa we retire to my privat terrace?' i lear, 'i hav vintage BRANDY so pure it is liek necter you wuould think it is mountane dew …. '

'nigel Nigel,' he sa, quitely amused, 'for wot you hav in mind, you do not need to get me drunk and it would not be wise for you either. i hav thort you super for manys the yeere let us go before any further rufians from our beloved alma mater (lat.) decide to remind us of our deficiencies at foopball – not that we wer any wurse than wane ronney aganest Portgal in last Wurld Kup!'

Chiz Curses! Rumbled! But that is not so Chiz since basil think i am super. Must be mader than Sigismund the mad maths master but ours not to reson why ect ect ect.

'Basil,' i warn, 'i onli ever topp!'

'i would xpect 0 less.' he respond litely, and skip weedily after me to privat suite.

'Cum into my parlour,' i invit, 'i can offer chaise longue a la Hortense, or full-on bed xperience. Which would you preffer, o weedy wet?'

'Hullo chaise longue, hullo bed,' he muse thortfully, 'Mayb both we cuould start informal and mov to bed latter.'

Chiz chiz who he think i am ex-England foopball Coach? i am LVIII yeeres old and daies of sXual athletticks gon for good.

'Nigel, i hav wated nearly 50 yeeres for this,' he tel me, 'and i intend to mak the most of it i am sory you mist my jeunesse doree in sixties wen al was Free Luv and SUBSTANCES however beter late than never i think. Shal i remov my cloting?'

'Plees do and remov mine too o you mite!'

Basil maie be utterly wet and a weed, but he sure do hav waie with clotes removal, pardner, i am quite hot and botered by time he finish. Then he remov his own. He hav retaned most of elfin aperance al this time and i find eyes zooming into space, face going brite red and hem-hem rising to occashun ect ect ect.

'Wel that luk promising,' he sa, 'Hav you the requisite necessities?

'Cum agane?'

'Do you hav lubrikant?'

'o taht! i always cary it in case bell-boy …..'

'You need sa 0 more Nigel,' he interupt hastily, 'i always thort you posesed unkanny foursite. Let us then begin.'

He push me down on chaise longue and do strange and faskinating things to my colar bone and niples i did not realise wot these are for til now, i am straning at leassh by time he pause. Seizing inishiativ i brake free to retriev Vaseline and return to swoop liek Assyrian loup (fr.) on fold.

He luk so HOT i canot wate and do prelim. prep. in perfunctory (allit.) waie. Since chaise longue so naro, i turn us bot on-side and heare Voyce of Grimes on touchline ('MARK YORE MAN MOLESWORTH ONE!') so i bite his shoulder and leev teeth-imprint.

Folowing instruckshuns from gaie kama sootra as read on slahs-site about elf-luv in midel erth, i sling his upmost nee over my elbo, skwiggle a bit and ('GET INTO HIM, MOLESWORTH, GET INTO HIM!') slide through tite entrance with murmer of 'open in the name of Beelzebub!'

He mak small sound. i reckall that i heere xactli same wen we stik kompasses into him during geom. i freez.

He hav wated al this time. Mayb i hurt him. i …

i mov slow and he sa nigel softly. There is no eskape i am in luv and hav bene ever since 3B …..

Chiz! Curses and Thrice Wo (f.howerd)! Why it tak me so LONG? Why do i realiz NOW in – as twere – flagrante (lat-shakspere-lat.)?

He is so HOT and tite, liek silk and noise he mak driv me mader than sigismund i wil not last this is nott liek grabber ma or anybode els i hav … mayb i wil let him topp nekst time … nekst .. there must be a nekst .. i mov hard and fast he mak riples around me and wurld space universe xplode into ickle pritty stars and fairy lites ('GOLE!!! O WEL PLAID MOLESWORTH ONE!')

i am suddenly limp as bizkit and must mak tacktical withdrawal i hav nott even checked that he iz OK i must do beter (100 times) this is not bell-boy to be paied off dizcretly nekst morning this is basil and i am in luv

CHIZ CURSES! Wot a MESS!

i do nott kno wot to saie this luv bizness is tottaly embarassign do i tel or not tel, does he kno alreddy liek in mills&amp;boone? WHY DID NOT SOM BEAK TEACH US WOT 2 DO EH? wot did our paters paie al that duough for? i do not even kno amo amas amat properly onli that i mak sound liek hujus hujus hujus wen i cum … and now CURSES i find i am blubbing.

'Nigel?'

He turn with som difficulty, suckseed in NOT falling off chaise longue and wipe teares from my face.

'Was it realy that bad? i'm sory.'

'NONONONO! It was super basil.'

'For me too,' he sa litely, 'Shal we try the bed now, this somehow lacks komfort.'

i mov, groning as lower back catches me agane. Basil remoov fluffy towel from beneth him. Name on it now rede HOTEL MAGNIdribbleSPLODGE but who cares eh?

i setle in bed noting that ushual request for silk shetes hav bene attended to.

'Deckadent!' whisper basil as he join me.

'i eckspekt 0 less than the best,' i sa inattentively, 'You should cum and see my bed at home go on o you mite!'

'Wot, molesworth Towers? How i am honoured as armand mite sa. Tel me Nigel who was yore first?'

Chiz Curses! Why he ask that? I sigh softly. He will nott liek this, but i deside truth best in matters of TRULUV.

'grabber ma,' i admit reluctantly, 'at Grunts.'

'Ah Nigel you hav not then lost yore stark honesty as displaied in yore diary at skool. i knew alreddy me too Nigel, me too.'

'YOU? HIM? WEN??' i grate.

' i met him at wormwood scrubbs wen doing phd thesis on 'Instances of Criminal Behaviour amongst the Middle Class and Minor Aristocracy in the Post-War Uncertainty: A Survey' he was most helpful after relees it was mayb a touch of quid pro quo (lat.)'

i rekall som of grabber ma's little habits and bekom INSENSED! INKANDESKENT!!!!  


How DARE that cad roter buly presume to TUOUCH my truluv?

'BASIL DID HE HURT YOU? I WIL TUOUGH HIM UP SO HE NEVER .. !!!!!!!!!!!'

'Do not' he sa, 'get into a bate. That was YEERES ago Nigel, grabber ma now liv in karavan on Gillibrand Estate he hav gon New Age Pagan and rumer sa he giv Widow regular ritual sX. Why are you so UPSETT?'

'luv!' (i wisper into pillo).

'WOT??'

Silence i canot let word pass lips agane.

'o Nigel! it hav onli ever bene you since st custards even in Cambridge Fut Lites wen i..'

i terminat remniskenses firmly with kiss. i do NOT want to kno! basil luv me .. that is enuff!

'Cum live with me and be my luv (Marlowe).' I sa romantickally.

'o luv i canot. There is stil Swete Lavender Cotage, arabella is not so gud these daies she hav kept house for me al these yeeres and now she REALY see fairies at botom of garden – eksept it is part of M69 now. i must ensur her welbeing. But we kan stil be together wen i am in lundon?'

'i hav super flat in new bilding called erotick gurkin just off historick city-of-Lundon,' i repli, 'Pleez regard it as home wen you are in Town!'

'o super! how i wish i was young and beatiful agane for you nigel!'

'you ARE beatiful …..' i begin but am suddenly struk by thort …

Peason do one last peece of work befor he leev in huff. Blak Holes …

'i am Nobel Laureate in Ponks, basil,and hav done 'spekulativ physicks for tinies' course as wel,' i sa, 'Leev it with me! i wil be bak to you sure as eggs ….'

* * * *

Basil pause outside door of my lab.

'Nigel are you SURE about this?' he ask.

'Peason sa so. He do all the elementary alg. and anyway he menshun stephen hawking wot cuould be beter?'

'i hav not kept up my reading in chem. and spekulativ phys,' he sa doubtfully, 'But shurely if peason was convinced of this, ther would hav been a lot of publicity ….'

'Not if it was peason!' i repli firmly, 'he is clot-faced wet at publicity. Cum in and see!'

'Even stephen hawking hav CHAGNED HIS MIND about nature of Blak Holes from wot i here ….' he muter, but folo me anyway.

We tiptoe into lab no sense in waking Blak Hole until needed who knos wot it wil do if roused eh?

'Peason sa' i begin, 'that if you captur ickle pretty baby Blak Hole, you can NESTLE round it and absorb som of its magic properties. Thuswise (posh prose!) you may attane Eternal Life and Youth. Wot sa, basil shal we give it a whirl?'

'Later,' he repli with a luk infinitly seducktive hem-hem, 'Let us first inspeckt yore bed as promised!'

i can deny him 0 so we baktrak for daliance. Now while basil slepe, i update diary..

WHO KNOS WOT TOMORO WIL BRING EH? Mayb we can form boy-band to rival busted, do that deel with transylvanian mafia to tak over mineral conceshuns in Carpathians and buy-up chelsea foopball teem, remak film of lotr starring basil instead of orli ….

But manely we wil do it al together ……..

* * * *

**Biographer's Epilogue:**

_What Dr Peason cunningly did NOT elucidate to Sir Nigel is the essential nature of Black Holes. They DO NOT HAVE AN EVENT HORIZON, so that unless very careful precautions are taken, it is possible that a "baby" Black Hole would not only grow during the time it was "stored" in the laboratory, but also become a tangled mass of "strings" thus resembling one of Arabella Fotherington-Tomas' crotchet works._

_It therefore seems sadly possible that both my subject and his lover have been swallowed and tangled up, never to return. This might be a choice revenge on the part of Dr Peason; but since the latter's disappearance, we will never know._

_I would like to think that the Black Hole sends our heroes directly back to 1950s St Custards where they will forever remain in an Alternative Universe as innocent eight year olds. However, Basil was right. Hawking has indeed recently changed his mind about the nature of Black Holes. He now believes (and I quote):_

"If you jump into a black hole, your mass energy will be returned to our universe, but in a mangled form, which contains the information about what you were like, but in an unrecognizable state."

_So maybe they WILL reappear as a boy-band after all! Or even a GURL-band. The one sure thing is that with Black Holes, ANYTHING is possible. As any fule kno._


End file.
